


Matters of the Hearth

by joufancyhuh



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 12:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13146723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joufancyhuh/pseuds/joufancyhuh
Summary: In a time of cold and darkspawn, Surana finds a way to keep both her and Zevran warm.





	Matters of the Hearth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RockPaperbackScissors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockPaperbackScissors/gifts).



> Happy holidays to the wonderful Paperback! I hope you enjoy this! 
> 
> I've never written this pairing before or played it in game, but I just kinda pictured a Warden who never got the chance for snow before, and a Zevran who is amused by her reaction. 
> 
> I ended up liking this fic more than I planned.

The first snow of Ferelden tingled on Surana’s skin as she twirled, coat-less, outside the door of the tavern. Only Zevran braved the cold with her, the rest of their companions tucked warm inside with ale and a hot meal. He bundled, unaccustomed to the bitterness Ferelden offered in the winter.

But Surana knew it well, the way it seeped into the stone of the Circle. No mage could ever quite stay warm, even with the magic their body offered. She remembered pouring over the books to find something that allowed her to not feel quite so numb. But the snow, she always loved the snow, the purity of it coating the world outside her window. How long did she wish for this exact moment, delicate snowflakes melting on her skin and tongue as she opened her mouth?

Zevran laughed at the sight of her, her child-like wonder and glee at a common occurrence, white snowflakes contrasting her dark curls that sways in her dance. The ex-Crow hung back, shaking his head but withholding his judgement. He loved this about her, her young innocence she carried, despite the blood and betrayal she saw. Less people allowed themselves to be haunted by it, but not her. He would never accuse her of being anything less than marvelous.

The cold nipped at him as he tugged his jacket tighter, the cloth starting to darken with wet. As much as his body aches for a hearth and a drink to warm him, he stayed, this sight of her one he didn’t wish to lose.

She stuck her tongue out, a few flakes falling onto it before she licked her lips. When she spotted him watching, a glint of amusement in his golden eyes, she stopped to smile. “Don’t just stand there.” She stooped, scooping up some of the drift into her paling palms and rolling it into a ball before tossing it in his direction, pouting when he side-stepped out of the trajectory of the ball.

“You don’t want to do this, mio amore.” A Fen’Harel grin spread across his face as he started to limber up, making a show of stretching his muscles before sprinting towards her. She screamed, taking off toward the woods and away from the tavern, throwing glances behind her shoulder. She knew she didn’t have long to stay afoot, the other elf fast gaining on her.

Lithe arms hooked around her waist as the two of them fell to the ground. A burst of giggles bubbled from her chest as she grabbed more snow and shoved it into his face, wiggling underneath his weight to try and make her escape.

He held tight, as he scattered frosty kisses over her face, hands attempting to shovel snow under her clothes. A shriek preceded a fit of laughter as some of the white powder made contact with her flush skin.

She reached behind her and tossed more loose snow into his face, enjoying the lost, confused look that followed with a fresh bout of kisses. Snow hung from his hair in gentle clumps, more decorating his light eyelashes as he stared down at her. He looked surreal, a beautiful snow devil, sent in her time of need. She loved how his eyes softened as they glued to her, hints of a happiness he denied himself sparkling brighter than the snow.

Snow fell into her eyes; she wiped it away only for more to replace itself.

She pivoted her hips, using her weight to roll them so that she topped, leaning her head over his to field away some of the snow. A shiver rolled up her spine; she curled into his chest in an attempt to edge it out. Her breath, a visible puff of air, spread over his cheeks in slow form.

His hands traveled along the curves of her body as he took in the sight of the snow-encrusted Warden, cheeks and lips glowing as her eyes shined. “I wasn’t prepared for how cold this would be.”

He chuckled, brushing some of her hair behind her ear. “You act like you’ve never seen snow before.”

She nodded, rubbing her hands along his chest to keep them warm. “Seen, yes. But actually being in it, that’s new. The Circle didn’t exactly give us a chance to do this.” She grabbed more snow and threw it into his face, untangling herself to roll on her back in laughter.

“I love this,” she yelled at the sky, opening her mouth to let more flakes coat her tongue. “This world is such a beautiful place.”

“You say that as though the darkspawn aren’t at our heels.” Zevran shifted so he lay next to her, ear to the ground as he admired her darkened frame.

She turned her head so her violet eyes bore into his. “The darkspawn are only a small part of Thedas.” Her fingers laced with his as she stroked her thumb along his palm. “They may be ugly, but they aren’t everything.”

A secretive smile graced her lips as she reached over and pushed some of his hair from his face with her numbing fingertips. “And they brought you to me. How can I hate something so fully when it’s given me the greatest gift? My freedom, my love, this snow?”

A soft tint bloomed under his cheeks, a small widening of his eyes cluing her into his shock of her statement. “ _Ti amerò finchè ho vita,”_ he mumbled as he brought the back of her hand up to his lips.

She scrunched her face. “What does that mean?”

“You’re an amazing woman, Surana.”

She rolled her eyes, knowing that an exact translation from him was impossible to get. She stood, dusting off the snow from her back and front as she spun in a slow circle, checking to make sure she got everything. When she finished, she held out a hand to where he laid. “Come on, it’s cold.”

He smiled and used her outstretched hand to pull himself up. She performed the same dusting on him; he used to opportunity to lock her in his arms, a kiss searing her mouth as it warmed her cheeks. The voracity of it surprised her, rendering her a bit breathless as he shrank back. Their heavy breathing drifted as a cloud between them before he pulled her back in for another and another.

Her dreams of a hearth could wait.

**Author's Note:**

> I picture Antivans as Italians, so what Zevran says to her is Italian for, "I will love you while I still have life."


End file.
